Sleep
Sleep.
I rest easy, deeply, as the ether
rolls over my body; I fall away from
the great realm of the conscious, and
into the marked slumber of the
anesthetized.
Colours.
Spinning through my head like
upturned pots of paint; Flying through
the air, they spray their hues and
bright tones everywhere as I lay
comatose.
Dreams.
Once more my brain confuses me
with strangeness; pictures that sit
emblazoned on the walls of my
subconscious. Just another way I
visualize.
Why? Because I took leave of my
mind and my control, my body and
my soul, and I never wished to be
anymore than a shell for a spirit
to live inside of. Do you know me?
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